


remember, remember

by amistad



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Biggs Darklighter Lives, Coming of Age, Fix-It, Introspection, Luke's sad, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Self-Indulgent, i read a Lot of Lore in order to get enough material for this to make sense so hopefully it will, the whole gang's here just like in the movieee
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:40:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27430627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amistad/pseuds/amistad
Summary: Star Wars (1977) but focused on the relationship and backstory of Luke Skywalker and his friend Biggs Darklighter. A canon divergent re-telling based on unused footage from the original film, George Lucas’s revised fourth draft of the Star Wars screenplay, some issues in the Star Wars: Empire comic series, some Luke Skywalker book I found a while ago about his life on Tatooine before ANH, and miscellaneous fun facts found on Wookiepedia and other websites and media.Title from the song "Heaven" by The Walkmen.
Relationships: Biggs Darklighter/Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa & Luke Skywalker & Han Solo
Kudos: 10





	remember, remember

**Author's Note:**

> ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
> 
> To Brian de Palma, Steven Spielberg, Marcia Lucas and the guys who fixed the entire script’s dialogue. To my buddies who supported the creation of this thing from the very beginning. To user Michael P (now @Michael P’s 2nd Channel) for doing God’s work by improving and uploading the deleted scene to YouTube two years ago. To George Lucas and Gary Kurtz, for making the decision that gave me the spite I needed to write this. And especially to Garrick Hagon and Mark Hamill, for delivering a performance that was ahead of its time (and creators), without which none of this would’ve been possible.

* * *

Luke Skywalker wakes up in the middle of the night, startled and cold. It wasn’t entirely a nightmare; but instead a bunch of memories, thoughts, and visions.

This is what he saw:

A bitter goodbye. Watching a transport exit his home planet, fading away into the blue. Pain where he didn’t know it could hurt. Black. Then, standing in the middle of the vast Dune Sea—alone, shouting for somebody’s name. Walking aimlessly until him, the sand and blue skies melted into each other. Black. A star emerging from the blackness; suddenly becoming two, three, a thousand, one million. Too many to even attempt to count. From the sea of stars came two spaceships; big and small, both white and foreign. It was as though they were chasing each other. A planet that shone red floated underneath them. Black. Green blasts blazing through the darkness. Everything happening too fast and too much. Incoherent screaming followed by a big explosion happening right behind him. The inability to turn back and see. Fear. Anger. An unbearable ache. Tears running down his cheeks, and wiping them away—but they weren’t wet. Were they even there at all?

Black.

It’s only a matter of minutes before everything becomes a cold, distant blur, and Luke falls asleep again.

When he wakes up the next morning, the coldness within him hasn’t fully diminished. He gets dressed so he can join his aunt and uncle at the breakfast table. Owen asks him to check on a couple nearby vaporators that appear to be faulty, Beru asks if he slept well. The pieces of last night’s dream are still scrambled, but before he can put them together, he must remember them; although right now, his attempts are futile, so he lets himself forget. It’s too early for this. 

Luke doesn’t tell his aunt about the dream, and not a word is spoken for the rest of the meal.

Once he’s done with breakfast, Luke fetches Treadwell—a droid who helps him with the vaporators—from his garage, and then heads out. His landspeeder is parked at the door. Luke takes a moment to admire his surroundings, but aside from the two vaporators beside the homestead, there’s not much for him to look at. Or for anyone in that matter. From where Luke stands, it appears as if the sand could spread all the way to the other side of the galaxy. The sky is no difference; at this hour in the morning, it’s painted a dull, grayish blue. And just like himself, Tatooine’s twin suns are still waking up.

His old landspeeder complains when Luke starts it, but as always, it hovers above the ground. And when he punches the accelerator, it goes. 

The two vaporators Owen told him about are not too far away from the homestead. Luke moves onto the first one. He opens its compartment to expose several multi-colored wires, and behind them, a tiny screen displaying the power status, and different insignificant measures Luke still takes the time to check—just in case. He writes them down. He also checks the screws that hold the screen and the rest of the circuits in place, but everything seems alright, so he closes the compartment shut.

He moves onto the second vaporator, and Treadwell follows him with the whirring sound of its rusty joints.

The wires on this one seem okay, and all the readings he gets from the screen tell him it's working fine, but a couple screws are too loose for Luke’s liking, so he takes a screwdriver from his toolbox and tightens them until they’re secured in place.

He’s concluded his task, and it’s not even mid-day yet! That’s a good thing. 

The suns are now fully awake, so Luke braces his eyes with his hand so their reflection isn’t a bother. He notices his macrobinoculars lying on the landspeeder seat, right there next to the toolbox, and suddenly, he remembers something he saw in his dream. 

The memory lasts a fraction of a second, but it’s enough for Luke to grab his binoculars, step back, and look up.

What he sees through them feels awfully familiar, although he doesn’t quite know why.

In the distance, a scattered, triangular shape appears to move, surrounded by intermittent twinkles coming from opposite directions. Luke’s never witnessed a space battle down from a planet before, in fact, he’s never witnessed any space battle whatsoever. But something tells him he’s looking at one now. He watches it for a moment until he’s flung back into the present by the strong smell of smoke. Poor Treadwell.

The suns continue rising though, and Luke must leave—the sooner he gets back home, the sooner he can go tell the Anchorhead crowd about what he just saw.

So he begins walking toward his landspeeder, and Treadwell tries his hardest to do the same thing, but suddenly he stops short. Luke frowns and shouts at the droid to get in gear and follow him. The response? Treadwell’s circuits finally giving up after a lifetime of hard work, a sighing noise, and a column of smoke leaving its metal carcass. Luke rolls his eyes.

Looks like they’ll have to get themselves a new droid.

***

Luke spends the next few hours locked in his garage, checking the oil tub levels, dusting off his shelves. Cleaning his tools and hanging them back in place. He sits on a small chair in the back once he’s finished, and scans the whole garage in search of something else to clean, but it’s all pristine.

Soon after, Luke finds his attention drawn to a scale model of his T-16 skyhopper, which he got before he could have the actual thing. He stands from where he’s seated and walks to the table where the model rests. It’s a little dirty, so he takes it in his hands and uses a thin cloth to give it a gentle scrub, running a finger through it, almost caressing it. Something about that tiny thing makes Luke smile. He sets it back on the table.

The cold from last night comes back, and a dangerous thought tries to sneak out from its confinement, but Luke pushes it back in before it can cause any harm. 

***

Uncle Owen appears almost at the same time as Luke finally makes up his mind about visiting the Tosche Station. There’s only so much a plan can last for without being altered by external factors...

Whatever this is shouldn’t take long.

They exit through the main door, and outside, a giant Sandcrawler awaits. Aunt Beru calls for Luke’s name as a couple Jawas instruct an array of droids of at least three different kinds to line up. Treadwell’s replacement came way sooner than Luke had expected.

Convenient.

“Luke, tell Owen that if he gets a translator to be sure it speaks Bocce.” Beru asks from deep within the household.

“Doesn’t look like we have too much of a choice but I’ll remind him!” He says, heading back to his uncle, who examines the droids closely. Luke’s head is somewhere else.

The urge asking him to go to Tosche Station feels overly strange. It’s almost demanding. As if there was something important waiting for him over there. Something vital. 

Back in reality, Owen talks to a tall, gold-plated droid. It sounds like an agreement, but Luke zones out again.

Tosche Station. Important. Now.

“Luke? Take these two over to the garage will you?” Owen asks, snapping him out of his thoughts, “I want them both cleaned up before dinner.” Luke sighs, “But I was going to Tosche Station to pick up some power converters!” he says. It sounds almost desperate.

His uncle sees through the terrible excuse before Luke can finish his sentence.

“You can waste time with your friends when your chores are done, Now come on, get to it!” Owen says, drawing another sigh out of Luke, whose disgust with the situation is now plastered all over his face—what friends anyway? Luke thinks. Defeat is never a pleasant taste.

“Alright come on!” Luke faces the ground as he walks to his garage, “And the red one, come on,” the red R2 unit moves a little too slowly, “well, come on, Red let’s go!” Luke yells, and the droid moves toward him for a few meters before its dome is blasted off in a small explosion, leaving it useless. This has got to be a joke. “Uncle Owen...” he says.

“Yeah?”

“This R2-Unit’s got a bad motivator, look!” Luke uses his hand to get rid of the smoke, and then, a metal finger taps on his shoulder, “Excuse me, sir, but that R2-Unit is in prime condition. A real bargain,” says the golden droid, pointing at a blue and white astromech with a round dome that bounces up and down with cheerful beeping noises.

Luke just wants the whole thing to be over.

“Uncle Owen...” he calls again.

“Yeah?”

“What about that one?”

After accepting Luke’s suggestion, an angered Owen pays off the Jawas, and Luke does as he was told; guiding the newly purchased droids toward his garage. The heavy thought manifests in the form of a faint headache, so Luke decides to open the door for it to roam freely, and he lets himself hurt. This isn’t the kind of thought that can simply be put in a sealed box on a far corner of one’s garage for it to gather dust, and be forgotten over time.

Pain, after all, must be nothing but a warning that something dangerous has remained ignored for too long.

Biggs Darklighter left for the Imperial Academy a little over one year ago.

Luke hasn’t found a way to get used to it. Everything seems emptier without Biggs — it’s colder. And it started growing cold the moment he left. 

But maybe, just maybe, that’s how the universe works.

There’s warmth; the warmth of sunshine against bare skin, of a solid handshake, a hug. The feeling of accomplishment. Success. That burst of laughter after finishing a race down Beggar’s Canyon, or the light that comes out of a smug smile. Warmth replenishes the soul, for it is loving and tender. But the universe cannot work without balance. Nothing can exist without a corresponding opposite. That’s what cold is for. Cold is anything but pleasant. Like desert winters, it's sharp and bitter. It renders you still—and unless an external force brings you warmth, you’ll remain still until you freeze. Cold is in the fear of uncertainty, or alternatively, in watching him leave knowing you can't follow.

Luke realizes he’s been cold for a while; and the urge he had moments ago comes back; although this time, it’s a call to action.

He shuts the droids down, sets the golden one on the platform that’ll lower him into the oil tub later, and leaves the R2 unit resting against one of the garage walls, scrubbing him lightly with his tunic, leaving it stained. There’s no time for him to find an actual cloth. He puts on his hat, his belt; and before he leaves, Luke grabs his binoculars. Once he’s ready, he closes the doors behind him, hoping with all his gut that his uncle doesn’t go inside anytime soon.

***

The sky above is still a pale, yet vibrant hue of blue by the time Luke gets outside. Are skies on other planets any different? Luke thinks. He wonders what color they are, and how they look from outer space, far away from where he stands. He wonders what his own sky looks like from up there, and if Biggs has seen it.

He wonders what he’s seen.

What Luke sees right now though, is his landspeeder, quietly parked right outside the garage doors.

He pushes it about twenty meters away from the household so his Aunt and Uncle don’t hear when he starts it. He’s sneaked out countless times before, although at this point, Luke doesn’t care if he gets caught anymore. He’s still cautious regardless, so once he’s far enough, he hops into the speeder, and goes.

When he gets to Tosche Station there’s nothing out of the ordinary.

Pop music is playing, and the sounds of boys playing that old computer game can be heard from within the power room. Luke goes inside. The same old metal bookshelf to his right. There are also mechanical parts and other trinkets scattered on the table in front of the chair where Camie and Fixer always sit, all over each other as usual. He tosses his binoculars at them so they snap out of it, and starts thinking that maybe this was a bad idea. Everything feels the exact same way it always does.

Luke steps further into the room. 

He glances at the game table, and as he notices the boys he heard from the outside, something tells him to look up. Then, he realizes why he’s come here, what his urge was trying to tell him, and for the first time in an entire year, he finds relief.

“Biggs?” Luke asks. The word coming through his smile is more of a shout than it is a question.

His best friend backs up from the computer game, and in a very sudden, inevitable moment, they find each other wrapped in a tight embrace, “I didn't know you were back! When did you get in?” Luke asks. 

“Just now. I never expected you to be out working!” Biggs grins, wide and earnest, still holding onto Luke, so that breaking away is easier. Once they’re at a comfortable distance, they take a second to regard each other, and Luke says, “The Academy didn’t change you much…” How he says it is funny, though. 

It’s funny because Luke’s lying, but he smiles as he does it. Biggs is still himself. Tall. Handsome. Too handsome for Luke’s comfort. Biggs is still striking. 

His Imperial uniform—a blue turtleneck underneath a white, puffy jacket; brown shiny trousers paired with black boots, and a black cape—is a colorful contrast from the bleak, and frankly boring, Tatooine casual. He seems rather out of place here. That makes Luke proud. He never belonged here anyway. But the air he carries has a new gloom to it. A gloom that only grows from tiredness. From war. A gloom that only Luke can detect. 

“Oh I almost forgot, there's a battle going on! Right here in our system.” he says, thinking out loud. Remembering the bigger picture.

“Not again, forget it!” Someone shouts from the back of the room as Camie, Fixer, and Biggs follow Luke outside.

The desert suns are still blazing. Higher than in the morning, their scald more intense; just like the blue of the sky. Camie and Fixer brace their eyes as they look up, complaining. Not much can be seen with the naked eye. Luke remembers why he brought his binoculars. He looks up, and through them he sees the same shapes he saw in the morning. No twinkles surrounding them anymore. The shapes are just floating. 

“There they are!” Luke says, pointing at the spot so Biggs knows where to look when he hands him the binoculars. 

“That's no battle, hot shot...they're just sitting there! Probably a freighter-tanker refueling.” Biggs says from behind him, but Luke knows what he saw. Luke knows what he’s seen, so he insists, “But there was a lot of firing earlier…” 

The disappointment in his voice is hard to mask.

Then Camie grabs the binoculars from him to take a peek herself, Fixer materializing beside her almost instantly. But Biggs remains still. Luke doesn’t want to think about how close to him he’s standing. Too close. Too still. He might as well start freezing if he stays like that.

“I’ll tell ya Luke, the Rebellion is a long way from here. This planet? Big hunk of nothing.” Biggs says, patting Luke’s shoulder before heading back to the power room. It’s an attempt at reassurance, which Luke appreciates. 

Maybe he’s right.

But Luke remembers the bigger picture. The dream. The twinkles he saw in the morning. How real it all felt. How it’s remained real until this moment. He doesn’t know what a space battle looks like from afar yet. Maybe Biggs does. But Luke is positive, Luke  _ knows  _ that what he saw in the morning had been one, happening right over Tatooine.

Luke’s binoculars slam against his chest, bringing him back to the present yet again. He fumbles with his hands until he holds them steady. Camie and her manners. 

“I doubt if the Empire would even fight to save this system.” Fixer adds, meaningless, and Camie follows him into the power room to join Biggs and the rest of the crew, leaving Luke alone. 

But he only feels the slightest defeat, because something deep inside tells him he’s still right.

***

And as it turns out, Luke was indeed, right.

What he saw in his dream and later on in that clear morning through his binoculars, was no other than the Tantive IV. A starship property of Leia Organa, princess turned senator and proud rebellion leader. Aboard the Tantive IV, Leia and her crew carried something precious: stolen plans for the Empire’s newest, most sinister creation so far; the Death Star—a super-weapon with the ability to destroy an entire planet in one, single blast. 

Leia hoped these plans would help the rebellion find a weakness that’d lead to the weapon’s destruction. But the evil Emperor was fast to become aware of the possible threat this could prove to be. So he decided to send a ship to pursue the Tantive IV, and retrieve the plans back into safety.

Those were the two ships from Luke’s vision. 

The intermittent twinkles? Eager fire they exchanged.

And maybe Luke’s friends were right when they told him Tatooine was irrelevant to the interests of the Empire, but the effects of war aren’t always immediate.

The group of fighters who stole the Death Star plans, all died in the name of the rebellion, on a planet thousands of light years away from Luke’s, and no one on Tatooine had heard a word about the feat. Sometimes war happens so far away, it takes more time for it to reach certain places than others. 

***

They all remain in the power room for a while, with Biggs sharing stories about The Academy, and the rest of the group replying with the uneventful happenings of their daily lives. And Luke? He just sits there, listening to the music and to Biggs’s stories, starry-eyed, enjoying every second of Biggs’s company. The realization of how much Luke has missed him hits particularly hard. It must be the physical closeness, and how distant and impossible the mere thought of it had become. 

Eventually, Fixer instructs for the others to get back to work.

Biggs pours the remainder of a pint of malt brew the Station boys had brewed before onto a couple small cups, offering one to Luke, who was in the middle of a story about the latest race down Beggar’s Canyon.

(It happened a few weeks after Biggs left. 

Fixer was the one who came up with the idea. Now that Biggs was gone, the envious Fixer wanted to prove he was as good of a pilot as Biggs was, if not better.

Luke happened to be around that afternoon.

And he wasn’t going to take it. 

So when Fixer challenged Luke to a race, despite knowing the odds were against him, plus the fact they hadn’t raced in a while, he felt the need to say yes. For Biggs. He’d stand for Biggs in his absence. 

The race was a regular run down the back stretch of Beggar’s Canyon. Luke took a boy named Windy with him into the cockpit of his T-16 to serve as some kind of co-pilot, Fixer took Deak, and things were going smoothly—up until Fixer punched the accelerator before he was supposed to.

Luke lost important seconds there, and a few more while trying to take the lead, but with every second that passed, the canyon walls narrowed around them. He had no way to outrun Fixer now. But Luke wasn’t going to lose to a cheater. Not this time. 

So he propped the skyhopper up, and made a sharp turn before the corridor could get any narrower. Windy was aghast, yelling at Luke, trying to stop him from going any further— because the Stone Needle was closing in.

A 60 meter tall stone tower, with an immense rock “loop” lined with jagged, sharp-edged smaller rocks. A viable shortcut, Luke thought. But there was a reason why nobody turned in that direction: Any miscalculation while going through the needle’s loop would result in certain death. 

Very few people had been able to thread the needle successfully. Biggs Darklighter was one of them. 

At this point, Luke realized he was going too fast, so in a swift, almost instinctive move, he cut power so the skyhopper could decelerate, and in the process the ship dropped slightly, which seemed to be no good since Luke could already see the jagged edges of the loop.

Crosswinds shook the skyhopper heavily as they were closing in, and Luke white-knuckled the controls, trying to keep the trajectory for the loop opening, and in a thrilling second, after sounds of metal clanking and breaking, the skyhopper ripped through the opening. 

Luke let out a whoop of excitement, and Windy just sighed in relief upon realizing they’d gotten out alive, and in one piece. “We won!” Luke screamed after getting the thing to land, “We won!” 

That was one hell of a shortcut.

Naturally, the rest of the boys dismissed his victory because of how beyond risky the whole thing had been. 

That’s the story of how Luke Skywalker threaded the Stone Needle.)

“I was so close I thought I was gonna fry up my instruments. As it was, I busted up the skyhopper pretty bad...Uncle Owen? Furious. He wound up grounding me for the rest of the season.” Luke goes on. 

A warm, light breeze surrounds them as they exit the power room. Luke wouldn’t call himself a lightweight, but a hint of tipsiness starts growing within him. A tiny invitation, looming.

“You should’ve been there. It was fantastic.” And with that, he finishes his story, taking a deep breath, suddenly taken over by a shortness of air. 

“You gotta take it a little easy Luke, you may be the hottest bushpilot this side of Mos Eisley, but those little skyhoppers are dangerous. Keep it up, one day...whammo, you could end up a dark spot on the down side of a canyon wall.” Biggs says, with a laugh, gesturing with his free hand. He’s teasing. It's almost a threat.

Luke takes the final sip from his malt brew and smiles, “Look who’s talking! You’ve been hanging around the starfleet so long you’re beginning to sound like my uncle...You know you’re getting a little soft in the city.” 

Biggs responds to Luke’s tease with a playful shove, still grinning. Oh, the comfort of familiar territory. That's a nice thing about Biggs, Luke thinks, he always knows how to make tight, smothering air feel lighter. He knows how to make suffocating bearable in a way nobody else can. No one Luke knows of anyway. 

Another deep breath, and then, silence.

A short silence really, but Luke still notices Biggs’s sharp intake of breath before what he says next:

“I’ve missed ya kid.”

For as long as Luke has known him, Biggs had always been a carrier of ease. An untouchable pillar whose main duty was to stop any sign of vulnerability from exiting its façade, so it was strange for him to spit out the words just like that. 

“Yeah well,” Luke begins, “things haven’t been the same without you Biggs. It’s been so quiet…” the sentence spills out of Luke’s mouth through a smile. It’s funny though, he’s never had a façade, he's no stranger to showing emotion; in fact, Luke has always thought he feels a little too much. And this is no exception.

Another sigh.

The shortness of breath is still there.

“Luke?” Biggs says, and Luke realizes he’s not facing his friend, so he turns. 

The look on Biggs’s face grows increasingly serious, as if he were pondering what he would say next, staring down into his empty cup. Then he turns his head to peek at the power room, checking for anyone who might be listening, and takes a step toward Luke. There’s a big pause before Biggs speaks again.

“I didn’t come back just to say goodbye,” he says, still facing down, letting out a quiet sigh afterward. He probably didn’t intend for it to be heard.

What does he mean?

“I shouldn’t tell you this but you’re the only one I can trust,” pause, “see, I may never come back and I just want someone to know.” 

Luke can’t breathe.

A small shrug follows Biggs’s words. As if it was no big deal. But when he locks eyes with Luke again, something’s not right. Like he's actually considering what he just said. A horrible possibility Luke can't—and as a matter of fact—won’t even try to fathom. It’s as if the thought that had rendered Luke sleepless for an entire year crawled out of Biggs’s mouth, almost word by word. 

Maybe this is how the war had finally reached him, and maybe he can’t escape it now.

Or maybe he’s just drunk.

“What are you talking about?” Luke asks, his voice mimicking the worry on Biggs’s face, like a mirror. Like his body trying to make up for what his brain cannot process.

Biggs glances back at the power room again and leans closer to Luke. The notion of personal space suddenly forgotten.

“I made some friends at The Academy. When our frigate leaves for one of the central systems, we’re gonna jump ship and join the alliance,” he whispers, and it sounds determined. A determination Luke’s never heard from him before. It’s exciting. 

“The rebellion?” Luke shouts without realizing the whole galaxy could’ve heard him. 

So this was a real war then?

All he had heard about what was going on were mere stories. No more than gossip. It was the big, scary, powerful Empire against a few tiny cells of so called “rebels” scattered across the galaxy. Some said the rebellion would give up before it could cause any damage due to its size. Some believed it could pose a real threat. Luke himself believed the Empire to be only way out of his mundane life. But none of it was tangible. None of it was near enough for him to be able to really grasp it. 

Not until now.

“Quiet down will ya? You’ve got a mouth bigger than a meteor crater!” A startled Biggs says through pursed lips as he turns to the power room. His gaze fleeting; Luke, the cup he's holding, his boots. He places his free hand on Luke’s shoulder and squeezes it lightly before taking a few steps away from him. 

Luke covers his mouth with his fist.

“I’m quiet!”, he says, and then whispers, “I’m quiet,” his body shifting so he’s right in front of Biggs again, his face only a few inches away from his friend’s, “Listen how quiet I am, you can barely hear me.” His right hand traces the front of Biggs’s jacket, almost too softly for him to feel it. 

Biggs just stares at him at first, ducking his head, a shy smile beginning to form on his face. But then their faces edge closer. Luke’s eyebrows raise slightly, and he makes pointing gestures with his hands, eyes still locked with Biggs’s, who shakes his head with a grin, and then a laugh. His smile is contagious. They’re okay now, so Biggs goes on:

“My friend has a friend on Bestine who might help us make contact.” 

“You’re crazy! You could wander around forever trying to find them.” Luke says, trying not to sound too dismissive. 

“I know it’s a long shot, but if I don’t find them I’ll do what I can on my own!” Biggs’s voice becomes stern at the end of his sentence, and he begins walking away again, toward the back of the building. Then he stops short, grabbing Luke’s arm. The grip on the empty cup Luke is holding tightens.

“It’s what we always talked about Luke,” the way Biggs says his name makes Luke’s breath hitch, “I’m not gonna wait around for the Empire to draft  _ me  _ into service. The rebellion is spreading, and I want to be on the side I believe in.”

Luke blinks rapidly as he looks down in an attempt to avoid Biggs’s dark, determined eyes. But still, they follow him, and the gaze Luke finds is only soft. 

“Yeah meanwhile I’m stuck here...” Luke says, now he’s the one walking away. 

Although he knows Biggs didn’t do it on purpose. Like  _ he’s  _ doing it now.

Luke’s got too much air inside him. No. It’s not air. It’s anger. Or some brand of anger he can’t quite put his finger on. It’s despair. He puffs out his cheeks to let it out, careful enough to keep walking forward without turning.

“You’ll get your chance to get off this rock. You’re going to the Academy next term aren’t ya?” Biggs sounds like he’s asking for what he wants to hear. It’s kind of pathetic, so Luke turns to stand right beside Biggs and break the news to him, “Mmm not likely, I had to cancel my application.”

“What for?” 

Biggs’s brow furrows as he stares down at Luke. Puzzled. Luke doesn’t like that face.

“My uncle needs me.”

Today’s been a day full of sad excuses, but this one’s got to take the cake. Not even Luke himself is fully convinced of what he just said. And Biggs isn’t stupid. He’s nowhere near stupid actually. 

“Oh…” Biggs says, letting out an annoyed scoff. He turns away from Luke as he tosses his empty cup away in disbelief. He still has that look on his face when he locks eyes with Luke once again.

“No, I’m serious! The Sandpeople have been getting really crazy, they’ve even raided the outskirts of Anchorhead!” Luke explains, he doesn’t care if he’s talking too fast. Or about the fact that he can’t stop adding to the nonsense. He’s just too overwhelmed.

“C’mon Luke...Your Uncle could hold off a whole colony of Sandpeople with one blaster.” Biggs says, sounding desperate...is that how Luke sounded in the morning?

No. No, this is different. There’s a huge difference between them.

Luke decides that, in the greater scope of things, maybe youth is a burden.

His own youth in particular.

He thinks it’s unfair — how Biggs speaks. How he knows what he says is always right. Well no, only most of the time. Just the vast majority of it. It’s unfair because he doesn’t do it to make Luke feel stupid, he just happens to know things. And among those things lies Luke himself. It’s unfair how Biggs knows Luke better than anyone else. Hell, even himself at times. How he’s known him for so long and has practically witnessed how he came of age. And how, despite it— despite everything, Biggs is still there for Luke.

Maybe youth is a burden.

“I know. We’ve got almost enough vaporators to make the place pay off, I have to stay one more season...I can’t leave him now.” Luke stares into the floor as he speaks, he can feel Biggs’s heavy breathing beside him, is he running out of air too? 

Then Luke walks further away, slightly faster. Absentmindedly trying his best to continue avoiding his friend. Biggs goes on as he follows him. 

“What good’s all your uncle’s work if the Empire takes it over? You know they’ve already started to nationalize commerce in the central systems?” he says, extending his hand to Luke’s shoulder, which prompts Luke to turn and face him, but he doesn’t, he just catches Biggs’s hand with the corner of his eye. Biggs rubs small circles with his thumb. Why does he keep trying to reassure him?

“Won’t be long before your uncle’s just a tenant, slaving for the greater glory of the Empire.” 

It is now that Luke realizes he’s reached the edge of the building, so he stops moving, “No, that’s not gonna happen here,” Luke crouches to set his empty cup on the floor and picks up a couple small pebbles he finds next to it, “You said it yourself, the Empire won’t even mess with this old rock.” 

Biggs is standing beside him again. His old friend. Always right. Always there. Always predictable, ducking his head just a little so Luke doesn’t have to look up at him. Luke tosses one of the pebbles away into the sand that spreads below the building, tracking its trajectory until it lands, and then—

“Things can change.” Says Biggs, softly, but without warning. It’s a gentle bullet that hangs in the air for a moment. Suspended. 

Luke doesn’t fully get Biggs’s words as of now, but still, he holds them dear. He’ll play them in his head over and over, long after they’ve faded away. Whether or not they meet again, those three words will follow Luke through his every step. 

The bullet drops to the ground.

Luke blinks. 

“I wish I was going,” he says, to his feet. His words as soft as the ones he just received. He looks up and continues, finally giving in and finding Biggs’s unforgiving eyes again, “Are you gonna be around long?” Luke asks, making sure to speak fast enough for his brain not to mistake the question for hope.

“No,” Biggs shakes his head, “Leaving in the morning.” Luke can hear the short lived smile through which his words come out.

“Then I guess I won’t see you,” he says, to his hands, fidgeting with each other and with the tiny pebble they’re holding. He hopes this doesn’t come true.

“Maybe someday,” Biggs replies, patting Luke’s back, which startles him, “I’ll keep a lookout.” 

When Luke turns to Biggs, he isn’t smiling anymore. Biggs’s old stoic self is back, towering over him. This makes Luke feel hopeful to some extent. 

“Yeah…” 

Someday is something nice to picture. Someday means there’s a future. And future only means more time. More time to get older. Wiser. To do things and become something better, and learn and grow. The passage of time doesn’t wait for anyone. And that can be a good thing. It can be for the better.

Luke takes a second to forge a nice thought and let it sink in. Someday. He’ll think of someday.

“I’ll be at the Academy next season and then who knows—I won’t be drafted into the Imperial Starfleet, that’s for sure,'' he says with excitement, maybe if he starts talking the way Biggs does, as if what he said were facts instead of wishes, his wishes would come true. Biggs seems proud.

It’s now that Luke notices how his friend has been looking at him. How his eyes always land on his mouth. As if he was examining Luke’s face for some reason. Looking for something. Or maybe just to remember it for another occasion. So Luke decides he’s done with unfairness.

He’ll memorize Biggs’s face, just in case, or for whenever he feels like remembering. 

His pitch-black hair, brushed to the side. Left. The thick eyebrows that speak for him when he doesn’t want to use words. His eyes. Those deep brown, knowing eyes of his— and that contradictory gaze. Always so piercing yet the warmest, softest thing. Long eyelashes adorning it. His funky little nose. The stupid moustache he’d been growing since last year—in his own words, to blend in with the rest of the “cool Imperials” at the Academy—and how he somehow manages to pull it off. His wide, dimpled smile and the wrinkles that appear on the corner of his eyes whenever he flashes it. His sharp jawline. A nice finishing touch.

Luke sighs, yet again.

“Well take it easy buddy,” he extends his hand for Biggs to shake, “you’ll always be the best friend I’ve ever had,” Luke is the one who grips Biggs’s hand, giving it a good shake, never once breaking eye contact with him. 

After a moment, Biggs nods with a solemn “so long Luke”, and gives Luke’s hand a firm squeeze before releasing it, keeping his eyes on Luke’s as he walks away. Pursing his lips before he turns away for good. His long black cape waving with the tame wind that blows. Luke is glad Biggs is the one saying goodbye now, for he would never gather the courage to let him go. 

Luke remains standing there, following Biggs with his eyes until it becomes too much and he finds himself cradling the pebble in his hands. He looks up again. 

And then, Biggs does something unpredictable; he turns his head to take one final look at him, and at last, disappears into the front of the building. 

Luke feels drained. 

He looks down at the pebble and decides he’s already holding onto too much, so he tosses it and walks in the opposite direction Biggs did. 

Luke can’t breathe.

He leans against the building’s wall and begins painting a fast picture of his surroundings in his head.

Inhale.

The deep bright blue of the sky, its twin suns in the distance; too bright to be looked at directly. The vastness of dusty yellow. How the silky blue merges almost seamlessly with the grit of the golden sands, every tiny grain contributing with the shine of two suns to create an illusion of reflection. 

He feels dizzy. As if some strange force had crept from his toes all the way up to the top of his head. Taking over his entire body. It feels weird. Is it pain? Because he’s surely aching. But somehow, the ache is filled with darling warmth. He sensed the same force from Biggs every time he’d opened his mouth today. Every time he stood close to him. How funny. How strange. Luke had only expected to feel cold after watching his best friend leave again. For good. But instead, what he found was a strange feeling, warm within him, leaving him full.

Exhale.

***

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be posted as a one shot and not a chaptered fic but I haven't finished it yet and posting what I have so far will absolutely force me to finish it so...here we go.


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